


House of M

by WordsmithMusings



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Black Hermione Granger, Body Positivity, Business owner Draco Malfoy, But first a few dates, Edna Mode but make her a house-elf, Eventual Smut, Evil Author Day, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Good Slytherins, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, House of M - Freeform, Incomplete, Ministry worker Hermione Granger, Not Brit Picked, Not betad, Original Character(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-16
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-17 19:28:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29476992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WordsmithMusings/pseuds/WordsmithMusings
Summary: She walked in looking for a new outfit and walked out with a date. Who knows what the date could lead to next?
Relationships: Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Comments: 14
Kudos: 96
Collections: Evil Author Musings





	1. 1

**Author's Note:**

> For EscapingArtist who has been asking me for this fic for nearly a year. If only I could get my act together and come up with some dates for these two to go on, I might have something more for her. In the meantime, in the name of EAD, here are the first few chapters to tease and amuse, and possibly catch flame with. Rated for language now, though the final product would likely be E due to smut *winks*
> 
> Grammarly is my buddy and all my mistakes are my own. 
> 
> It's not my store, I just fill it with new merchandise.

##  Chapter 1

After the Second Wizarding war had come to an end, there was a quiet push to rebuild Diagon Alley. Not only were the central shopping areas expanded, but there were also many new businesses and housing options. At the end of the alley, near Gringotts, a memorial garden funded by anonymous donations had sprung to life. It was flanked on one side by a new wand shop for Ollivander along with a Wizarding public library - the first of its kind. On the opposite of the garden was a new tea shop with an adjoining boutique. The block itself was meticulous and well-manicured. While it remained traditional in its aesthetic, there was a modern Flair to it that the rest of the alley seemed to lack.

Ollivander’s and the tea shop, named The Carroll, both held a particularly airy feel that spoke of tradition and culture long passed down. There was an outdoor seating area outside of The Carroll, surrounded by rose bushes that bloomed different colors in different seasons. This seating area overlooked the memorial garden and offered a large amount of privacy from prying eyes walking by. The large window at the front showcased tea cakes and sweets, inviting passersby to pause and consider a quick treat. Much in the same way, Ollivander's new wand shop showed off a clean and fresh space, and the large window showcased the never before seen site of apprentices honing and polishing wands in newly designed stations in the front of the store.

The library facade wasn't as imposing as Gringotts. Still, it mirrored the bank in the most respectable way imaginable, and the Goblins themselves had given their input in its design at the donor's request. Inside the library was floor to ceiling shelves filled with tomes and works that had never been accessible outside of pureblood homes and Hogwarts. The access it afforded muggle-borns and squibs, families and adults alike was unprecedented and highly praised for its ingenuity in this new era of Wizarding life. There were reading nooks aplenty with soft, comfortable chairs, children's play areas and reading space, and designated space for lectures or classes. 

And then there was the boutique. From the outside, the brick building was a richly stained wood with a bold green door as its only defining characteristics. Above the doorway stood the only other sign that this was an actual business and not just a storage facility or mistake of some kind. Above the door, standing out in a beautiful silver script, were three little words  **House of M.**

House of M quickly established itself as more than a normal boutique. The House of M's interior was far more extensive than it appeared on the outside thanks to some creative expansion charms, and natural light flooded the space, odd for a building that seemed to have no windows. It gave off the feeling of upscale department stores such as Harrods but on a smaller scale. There was a decided muggle influence in every area of the shop, which spanned multiple floors, even though from the outside, the building only appeared two stories tall.

There was a level specifically for ready to wear clothes - done in a far more modern style than the traditional robes most magicals wore. Instead, there was a decided influence of fashion from the 30s, 40s, and 50s with pencil skirts, well-cut blouses, and even capris with complimenting boat-necked tops. There were modern colors and materials interwoven but nothing that could be deemed as casual as jeans and t-shirts. Gone was the traditional tailoring that most Magicals were accustomed to, and the decidedly off the rack aspect was a huge hit right off the bat.

The menswear section seemed similarly influence with men's three-piece suits, well-tailored pants, crisp button-downs, and blazers. Everything was off the rack, with a nod to bespoke qualities without the hefty price tag normally associated with that particular quality. Everything could be tailored or customized with various charms, and for those that weren't as good with them, spells to prevent waterproofing or spills from sticking.

The ground floor was for shoes and accessories with a salon and extensive collection of makeup, charms, and glamours to one side and the tailor shop straight back. There was always a healthy mix of pureblood, half-blood, and Muggle-borns on this level.

And then there was the top floor where a hidden treasure never seen in a magical store before was concealed - a lingerie shop. Hidden to one side was also a photo studio used exclusively for boudoir shoots. It was rumored that you could walk into the store, have a complete makeover, and then take the equivalent of glamour shots or a sexy, customized boudoir session with a dedicated staff member to aid you.

House of M was a unique addition to Diagon Alley, with all the allure of muggle shops and the convenience of magic to speed along drying times or stretch a shoe to the right size. This combination was what led to the House of M’s instant popularity, and when the shop expanded to include a Bridal Boutique in Paris, there was a mad dash to be seen in one of the custom gowns. Three years later, an exclusive bespoke dress and suit shop in Milan was added, and rumors persisted that there were expansion plans for House of M across the globe.

All in all, it was quite remarkable given that no one even knew what House of M stood for or who owned it. There were suspicions that the M stood for Magic or Muggleborn and whispers that an American Billionaire had swooped in to take advantage of England's crumbling economy after the Second Wizarding War persisted. If any of the staff knew, they were disinclined to share. It was a mystery that kept the popular boutique in the papers. At the same time, the fashion-conscious and modern witch and wizard flocked to the shop ready to part with their hard-earned galleons in exchange for clothes they could wear into the muggle world without transfiguration or feeling self-conscious.

Among the staff was veritable who's who of recently graduated Hogwarts alumni:

Daphne Greengrass ran the Bridal boutique, where many of her designs were featured (alongside lead designer Fleur Delacour-Weasley).

Pansy Parkinson made all the bespoke dresses in Milan, where Millie Bulstrode was her assistant. At the same time, the ready to wear designs were created by Penny Clearwater (with input from everyone, it seemed much to her chagrin).

Theo Nott was the Men’s collection executive designer, with Justin Finch-Fetchly and Anthony Goldstein running the ready to wear and bespoke divisions, respectively.

Dennis Creevy, following in his brother's footsteps, was a very in-demand photographer that oversaw all the catalog shoots (with the assistance of Gabrielle Delacour, who kept her fingers on the pulse of the fashion world both Magical and Muggle in Paris, Milan, London, and New York.)

Dean Thomas was a coveted editorial photographer that also exclusively took the boudoir shoots for House of M.

Lavender Brown ran the salon, and Pavarati Patel oversaw the makeup division.

When Luna Lovegood felt like taking a break from her creature hunts, she worked with Cho Chang to source accessories and sustainable materials for all the clothes to be made from eco and innovative alternatives to the traditional cotton, silk, and polyester blends. 

Hannah Abbott was the lead interior designer and ensured everything remained cohesive across all the stores and catalogs, while Terry Boot and Astoria Greengrass managed the London store and were in charge of customer service, staff, and day to day business.

Susan Bones, along with Andromeda Tonka, managed and ran the tea room next door (which had an interior door that led directly into House of M, with a second-floor café dedicated specifically to shoppers of the Boutique)

Being so popular and so full of Hogwarts Alumni, you would think that Hermione Granger would have no issue at all with shopping at the entirely too perfect boutique. Yet she had a scowl on her face as Ginny Weasley, her best friend's fiance and ex-boyfriend’s little sister, drug her through the store on a Friday morning just before lunch. It wasn't that she didn't love and enjoy spending time with Ginny, she did, but shopping and clothes and self-care via looking good just wasn't her thing. She'd much rather be next door at The Carroll, enjoying a delicious cup of tea and scones piled high with clotted cream and strawberries or rummaging through the library on the other side of the gardens to see if she could find any new information into pureblood traditions. But here she was, honoring her monthly girls' day with her closest (read Only) girlfriend.

In all honesty, it was her own damn fault for skyrocketing to the head of her department in the Department of International Cooperation. A position that had allowed her to keep her fingers and interests as vast and varied as she desired and gave her the ability to have more significant influence and connections with some of the most prominent people not just in their world but the muggle world and in countries sound the globe at that. Of course, such a visible position required dinners and meetings with everyone from foreign dignitaries and heads of States, to the British Prime Minister and the Pope, to International Quidditch Players and Headmasters of some of the most prestigious schools known to man or wizard, required a certain level of care for one's appearance. And frankly, while Hermione hated the double standard and its injustice, she had long since learned that she was playing in a public arena and that the proper cultivation of her image leads to many more meetings and successful lobbying. It was as her father had always told her, “You catch more flies with honey than vinegar.” 

So while she hated the task at hand, Hermione made sure to have her nails done and buy clothes that flattered and promoted unity and respect for British designers and House of M, particularly, which stood as a symbol of unity and compromise and good taste to all. Honestly, it was enough to make her sick, and having to be “on” on her day off while being sure to greet her former schoolmates and others as she shopped with kind smiles and even more thoughtful words, always gave her anxiety and a headache. Both of which were exasperated today by Ginny’s meddlesome inquiries about her personal life, the necessity for a dress for yet another charity gala next weekend, AND Ginny’s desperate desire to score a slot at the House of M Bridal Boutique.

Hermione needed a moment to breathe and somehow extracted herself from Ginny’s clutches as she talked accessories with Cho. She went upstairs, to the topmost level, simply because it was the least crowded. Very few people were interested in lingerie on a Friday morning at 11. Lucky her.

Sighing, she turned to the lingerie and began absently skimming through some of the options. Hermione guessed she did need some new things if she was honest with herself. She had put on a bit of weight since leaving school, her life no longer spent living on the run and subsisting off of forged mushrooms. And a bit more weight after that stupid thing with Ronald and the even dumber thing with Cormac. She wasn’t really one for frilly knickers, but her underwear did feel a bit tight, and there was really only so much spell work you could do before you should just buy new things, she reasoned. 

Still, House of M was a bit out of her price range, all things considered, even if she did have a vault full of money that she left untouched. Browsing around for a few minutes, she found some simple basics that were reasonably priced. She wasn’t sure what size she was anymore, but she guessed maybe a size or two larger would be fine. Hermione knew she could spell it to work if necessary.

Hermione was fixated on the things in her hands when she turned and found herself walking directly into a wall. No, not a wall. A firm chest. A firm, man’s chest. A firm man's chest was currently attached to two strong hands that had reached out and grabbed her by the elbows to prevent her from falling on her ass. “Oh, Merlin! I am so sorry!”

“That’s alright, Granger. Are you ok? Everything intact?”

Hermione's mouth gaped. of all the people, in all the world, she had to run into him. She was too flummoxed about running into Draco sodding Malfoy in the lingerie department to respond immediately. No doubt shopping for his hot model girlfriend of the moment, she thought with a scowl, as her mind reeled, trying to catch up. 

Draco bent down automatically to retrieve her plain sets of bras and panties she'd dropped, thanks to their collision.

“Are these for you?” he asked, not noticing the scowl still spread across her face, his gaze instead skimming over the simple cotton in his hands.

Hermione blushed furiously. “So what if it is?” she stammered as she tried to snatch them from his hands.

Draco was too quick for her, though, and shifted them out of her reach. “There’s nothing wrong with lingerie, Granger. But this color and style are just all wrong for you.”

“I happen to like this color and style,” she replied, watching in horror as he moved to a different area. Her purchases still in his hands.

“And for lounging about the garden and doing some work, I’m sure they work quite well – in the right size,” he added, looking quickly down at her body and back to the rack, his fingers deftly working through it. “Ah, here you are. This would look extraordinary on you.” He handed her a very pretty combination of lace in a lovely shade of purple, with a flick of his wrist, the plain cotton sets in his hands, exchange for ones in different sizes. “Dressing rooms are right through there, Granger, but I think I got your size right,” he added casually, placing the newly resized garments in her hands.

Hermione stood dumbfounded, her hands now full of lingerie, watching as Draco walked away. His steps never faltering, as if he's been completely unaffected by the strange exchange. She gazed back down to the purple bra in her hand, flummoxed at his words. 

“Oh, and Granger?" Hermione's head snapped up and back toward the doorway across the room where Draco has paused, "He’s a lucky man.” and with those words, he disappeared.

what just happened?? she thought to herself when she suddenly heard Ginny behind her. “Oh, there you are! Oh, where did you find that? It’s lovely!”

Hermione blinked, staring at the purple set in her hands, on top of the basics she had picked. It really was lovely. Damn that, Ferret. Sighing heavily, she finally replied to Ginny, "You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

“Miss Granger?” Hermione turned to see a beautiful and altogether well put together woman standing behind her.

“Yes?”

“Hi, I’m Astoria Greengrass.”

“Oh, hello,” Hermione said automatically as she reached her hand out to accept the other woman’s offered hand, almost dropping everything in her hands in her haste. Astoria quickly levitated the items out of Hermione’s hands with a smile. It’s then that Hermione noticed that Astoria is wearing a badge just above her left breast showing the House of M logo and denoting the title Senior Manager. 

“Now then, Miss Granger. Is there anything I can help you find today?”

“Oh. Well,” Hermione cast an eye at Ginny standing next to her, “Yes, as a matter of fact, Ginny, here is getting married.”

Astoria turned her attention to the pretty redhead as if seeing her for the first time. “Why, yes. Hello, Miss Weasley, and congratulations. Mr. Potter correct?”

Hermione rolled her eyes. Yes, Harry Potter. Everyone knows that, but Ginny smiles, graciously and enthusiastically replied, “Yes!” extending her hand with the large diamond that Harry had proposed to her with only a fortnight ago.

“That’s a lovely ring. Were you looking for anything in particular? A dress for your rehearsal dinner or honeymoon getaway?”

“Rehearsal for now. I wanted to get my actual wedding dress from here as well, but I’ve yet to be able to get an appointment.”

“Oh, let me see if I can fix that for you. In the meantime, shall I start a dressing room for you two?” Astoria asked, levitating the large stack of items in Ginny’s hands up as well. “Would you like an individual or a shared room?”

“We can share,” replied Ginny, delighted at the new level of service they were receiving.

“Excellent. I’ll get that set up for you. Feel free to continue your shopping. If you see anything else you’d like to try on, simply tap it with this,” offered Astoria, conjuring two glass flowers into the air in front of each girl. “Whatever you tap will go directly to your dressing room to wait for you. When you’re ready to head to the dressing room yourself, tap the flower in your palm three times, and someone will come to escort you to your dressing area. Any questions?”

Hermione bit her lip for a moment before sighing deeply, "actually," she began trying to make her frustration, "do you offer bra fittings? I've gained a bit of weight and wanted to be sure I got the right size." The words escaped her mouth in a rush, and Hermione tried not to blush as she finally turned her eyes on the perfect woman in front of her.

"Of course, Miss Granger. We've all been there, and there's nothing worse than a pinching brasserie."

"Or one that slips or digs," added Ginny thoughtfully. Hermione turned to look at her with an air of disbelief, "what! I do have some boobs. Just cause I'm not as lucky as you!"

Hermione snorted. Lucky her ass. She missed her modest curves somedays, none more so than today when Astoria Greengrass was expertly swirling an invisible tape measure around her figure. "We disillusion them for privacy and ease," the shorter woman told Hermione with a wink before assuring her she'd make sure the sizes in the dressing room were all correct before she tried everything on.


	2. 2

##  Chapter 2

“Just what exactly are you playing at Malfoy?”

Draco looked up from where he was sitting to see a very irritated set of brown eyes boring into him. Casually he wiped his mouth with the napkin in his lap and set it back before replying coolly to the fiery woman looming over his table. “Hello, Granger. Problem?”

Hermione’s eyes narrowed at his friendly tone. “What are you up to, Malfoy?”

His smile was lopsided and genuine and entirely unnerving to her. “Well, currently I’m having tea with my best friend. Would you care to join us?”

She felt her arms drop from where they were crossed across her chest at his continued calm and friendly demeanor. “No, thank you,” she hastily spits out before noting the amused look of his friend sitting across from him at the table. “Hello, Blaise.”

The dark-skinned Italian casually glanced at her from over the rim of his teacup, “Hermione.”

Draco eyed her sharply for a moment. His eyes traveling up and down her body. She looked different than when he had seen her just a little while ago. “What’s different?” he asked.

“That’s part of the Spring collection,” Blaise offered helpfully from across the table, setting his teacup down as he gave Hermione an appraising look. His eyes moved with a trained eye over the cut and fit of her soft plum dress. “The cut and style suit her.”

“Ah, that’s it. I thought I recognized it. Oh, and the girls are sitting higher and look to be more comfortable. Proper fitting?”

“Yes, Astoria –“ Hermione’s eyes narrowed again at him as she realized what she was about to say. “How did you know?”

Draco smiled delightedly, as if they’re old friends sharing a secret: “Is it the set I picked out? Does that mean you liked it?”

Hermione shifted from foot to foot, not entirely comfortable with where this conversation was going: “What? Um. Yes. It was. It is. It’s- it’s lovely.”

Draco nodded, lifting his scone back to his mouth for a bite: “Good.”

Blaise, not like being left out: “What set?”

Draco to Blaise: “The Elizabeth.”

Blaise glanced at Hermione for a moment before returning his attention to Draco: “Oh in lilac.”

Draco nodded in confirmation: “Yes, I thought it would look beautiful with her skin tone.”

Blaise gave him a large smile: “Undoubtedly. Her mocha coloring could pull off anything in those pastels.”

Draco thought for a moment: “Yes, you’re right. Though I bet the jewel tones of fall would’ve been even better.”

Blaise, excitedly: “Oh yes! The Anya in Amethyst would’ve been exquisite on her.”

Draco sipped his water: “Quiet right. You should see if you have any more of those in the back.”

Blaise agreed: “I should.”

Hermione, still standing next to the table, huffed: “Hello! I’m right here.”

Draco smiled indulgently up at her: “Yes, we’re aware, Granger.”

Hermione in annoyance: “My name is Hermione.”

Draco amused: “Yes, it is.”

Hermione: “Well, I’d rather if you call me that.”

Draco, taking a sip of his tea, eyes her for a long moment: “No.”

Blaise laughed across the table for a moment before he caught Hermione shooting daggers at him. He pretended to cough suddenly before taking a sip of his tea.

Hermione, to Draco, her annoyance back: “Excuse me?”

Draco, trying to mollify her: “It’s not that I don’t enjoy your name, Hermione. It is a lovely name from one of Shakespeare’s greatest works, but it just feels awkward in my mouth. Granger just rolls off the tongue.”

Blaise piped in: “I’ve always thought she looked more like a Mia.”

Draco tilted his head to take her in: “Ah yes. Bella Mia, perhaps?”

Blaise eyed her in the same way: “Cara Mia, I think."

Draco, with a sharp nod: “Quite right.”

Hermione, even more irritated: “What are you two on about now?”

Blaise to Draco in an exaggerated whisper: “Maybe she doesn’t like it? We could always go back to calling her Princess.”

Draco watched her with an amused twinkle out of his periphery: “Not feisty enough for a Lioness like Granger.”

Blaise eyed her carefully again, over the rim of his tea as he sipped, before setting his cup back in its saucer excitedly: “Kitten.”

Draco, casting that lopsided smile at her again: “Oh yes. I could see her being called Kitten.”

Blaise, after a beat: “But only in the bedroom.”

Draco, without hesitation: “Naturally.”

Hermione scoffed, before flopping down into the seat in between them: “Like that’ll ever happen.”

Both boys watched in amusement as she reached across the table and helped herself to Draco’s tea. Taking a long sip, Hermione sighed contentedly: “This is delicious.”

Draco, seeming entirely too smug: “Thank you. It’s the house blend.”

Hermione took another sip: “House blend?”

Draco, casually refilling  _ his _ cup for her: “Yes. Rosehip and bergamot. Though you’re also getting it with my private honey.”

Hermione watched as he drizzled a bit of honey into the cup she was still holding, then stirring it four times counterclockwise with his spoon, before setting the spoon back on the saucer – in front of him: “Your private honey? You don’t mean to say?”

Draco raised his eyebrows in question to her. Hermione nodded her head dumbly, indicting the room at large.

Finally, putting the pieces together: “Egads witch! You’re supposed to be bright.”

Hermione, choking on her tea: “Egads?!” To Blaise: “Did he really just say that?”

Blaise, chuckling: “It’s a work spell. He can’t swear on-premise. He’s got a bit of a foul mouth, and we can’t have him offending the customers.”

Draco, miffed: “I do not have a foul mouth. I merely have a colorful and expansive vocabulary.”

Blaise, back to Draco with a knowing look: “Words that are not always deemed appropriate in mixed society.”

Hermione to Blaise: “Afraid of offending sensible delectability.”

Draco muttered to himself over the last of his scone: “Something like that.”

Hermione took another sip of his tea, waited for Draco to meet her eyes. She gave him a mocking pout: “Poor Ferret. Were you worried your offers for a quick fuck in the backroom would get you in trouble?”

Draco, stunned: “I’m going to ignore how hot it was to hear you say that word.”

Blaise, on the edge of his seat: “I’m not! Say it again.”

Hermione, wrinkling her brow looking between the two of them: “What  _ fuck _ ?” She noted the way both of them seem to shudder, and she leaned forward in her seat, purposely pushing her breasts up slightly with her arms as she batted her eyes at them: “Never seen a lady extend an invitation to fuck her senseless? Have her beg you to take her into one of the dressing rooms for a quick fuck cause she just needs you to fill her? Have to slam your mouth against hers hard to swallow up all the expletives that tumble out of her mouth as she begs you to fuck her harder?”

Blaise leaned back in his chair: “Welp, I’m officially turned on. I had no idea you had that in you, Kitten.”

Hermione wrinkled her nose and stuck her tongue out at him.

Blaise with a chuckle: “Ok. Ok. No Kitten, but those claws showing were damn sexy, Princess. Wouldn’t you agree, Drake?”

Draco studied her for a moment longer, as if seeing a piece of a puzzle he’d been looking for for a lifetime, nodded before finally finding his voice: “I always knew you’d be a Tomcat behind closed doors.”

Hermione felt herself blush prettily, even as she met his gaze head-on. Her words in direct contradiction to the blush upon her cheeks: “Honey, you have no idea.”

Suddenly looking resolute, Draco leaned back in his chair: “You’re right. I don’t. We could always fix that. Say over dinner? Since you’ve now finished all my tea.”

Hermione looked down at the cup, which she had now drained for a second time, and felt her blush spread even further: “Oh, I’m sorry!”

Draco brushed it off with a wave of his hand: “It’s alright, Little One, I’ve got to get back to work anyways. But dinner? Tonight? 7 pm?”

Hermione blinked: “Alright.”

Draco sat up triumphantly: “Excellent. I’ll floo over for you then.”

Hermione nodded along: “Ok. It’s the Granger House.”

Draco nodded, confirming he heard her before turning to Blaise: “Not too much longer, yeah? I need those designs on my desk by 4 p.m.”

Blaise rolled his eyes: “Yeah, yeah, yeah. Taskmaster.”

Draco rose from the table and offered his hand to his friend to shake. They exchanged a couple more pleasantries, which Hermione tuned out before suddenly feeling the heat of another body close to hers. Her body stiffened slightly as she felt Draco’s hand on the back of her chair as he leaned to kiss her cheek, in the oldest form of Pureblood tradition. “See you tonight, Kitten.”

Hermione felt her whole-body shiver at the whisper of his breath against the shell of her ear. She watched as he buttoned his jacket and walked away, not casting a backward glance and nodding his head in greeting to anyone he passed on the way out. When he had left the tearoom, she found herself letting go of a breath she didn’t even know she was holding.

“WAIT,” she said, suddenly casting wide eyes towards Blaise, “What just happened?”

Blaise chuckled. “You just agreed to a date with the Crown Prince of Slytherin, Little Princess. Shall I help you decide what to wear?”

“What? You? I know you’re fashionable Blaise, but –“

“You realize that I design all the lingerie here and have final approval on all the outfits featured in the catalogs.”

Hermione felt her mouth drop open. She hadn’t known that at all. Blaise was always impeccably dressed. They had discussed it often in the Gryffindor common room, and anytime she had seen him since they had graduated, he always looked amazing. It was unfair really how well he seemed to wear clothes, but that didn’t transfer to lingerie in her mind. Voicing her confusion, she asked him how it came to be that he designed women’s intimates.

Blaise merely shrugged. “I love the female form. I love making women feel sexy. My mom is a model, and she taught me at a young age that a woman’s clothes are nothing without the right foundation. Plus, I’m really good at sewing and tailoring charms. I always have been. So here I am.”

“That’s – that’s amazing, Blaise. Truly.”

“It’s all Drake’s fault anyway.”

“How so?”

Blaise leveled a long look at her, contemplating how much to tell her. His Slytherin cunning ran deep, and he knew just how much was at stake for his best friend with the Gryffindor Princess. Taking into account everything he knew of her and of what she was now doing for a living, he responded, “No one was going to give jobs to a bunch of Death Eater’s kids or Slytherins. We were on the wrong side of the war whether we participated or not.”

Hermione nodded sadly, “Guilty by association.”

“Exactly. And yeah, most of us could’ve just been disgruntled trust fund kids and remain in our lanes, hidden and licking our wounds, but most of us didn’t want that. Daph and Pans especially didn’t want to be used as Pawns by their fathers and settle on being trophy wives. They had dreams, but their parents wouldn’t support them. So Drake made House of M happen. He got us all training under masters and created jobs that would speak to our skill sets. He created a home for us so we could start our own chapter and be in control of our own lives for once.”

Hermione was floored by what she was hearing. “That’s amazing.”

Blaise shrugged again, “That’s Drake.”

Filling her cup with some water from her wand, Hermione scoffed, “Not the one I know.”

Blaise eyed her carefully, “No. I imagine it’s not. I’m sure you’re familiar with the phrase ‘Don’t judge a book by its cover’ Cara Mia.” Hermione nodded. “You may want to apply that here. Drake hasn’t been who you think he is in a very long time.”

“But he hates me, Blaise.”

“Which is why he just asked you on a date.”

“I mean. He didn’t really mean it like that, though, right? He’s hated me for as long as I’ve known him.”

“No, Cara, he hasn’t hated you for a very long time.”

“How long?”

“Fourth year? Maybe even third. After you hit him.”

“He deserved that.”

“I’m not saying he didn’t. I know he did. He knows he did, but I’m not sure he ever hated you. Jealous of you? Absolutely. Angry at you? More than a few times. Confused by you? Constantly. But hate? No, Cara. I don’t think he did.”

Hermione blinked in confusion. She had noticed him watching her the night of the Yule Ball. She had always dismissed it, though, unable to understand what she saw in his eyes that night. The way his jaw had tensed and hardened, she figured it was just because she was nothing to him, a no one on the arm of an International Quidditch star. She couldn’t remember him calling her a mudblood after 3 rd year either, and there was the matter of him not turning them in that fateful day when they were brought to the Manor by snatchers. He helped them that day – allowing Harry to take his wand as they escaped easily. Not to mention Draco had thrown his wand to Harry at the final battle when Harry lept from Hagrid's arms, not at all dead as he had seemed.

It had been such a juxtaposition of the person she had known then, but his actions had moved her enough to speak in Draco's defense at his trial later that summer. She and Harry both testified on his behalf that day, helping him escape the same fate of his father. Not that Lucius didn’t deserve to rot cause he did, but Draco had been a boy dragged into the wrong side of war by a father that didn’t give him a choice. It was easy for her to see then, even if she hadn’t thought much about what else that might mean she was wrong about where Draco was concerned.

“Blaise?” she said, suddenly feeling overwhelmed and unsure.

“Yeah, love?”

“I changed my mind.”

He gave her a knowing smile, “I thought you might.”

She turned her large doe eyes on him, “Do you know where he's going to take me?”

“Not a clue.”

“Yeah, I'm definitely going to need help.”

Blaise chuckled. “Come on then. I know just what to do.”


	3. 3

##  Chapter 3

A couple of hours later, Hermione was finally at home. Having said goodbye to Blaise temporarily and laden down with bags upon bags of bags of new clothes and accessories and lingerie.

It was a bit overwhelming if she was honest, but she also felt spoiled and beautiful, and Gods, she couldn't believe she was going to say it, but like a fucking Princess. Blaise had proven, that like Draco, he had an unbelievable eye for the female form, and he just as easily picked out several outfits for her to choose for dinner as well as matching lingerie. He was absolutely right that he not only understood the female form, but he was a genius with clothing spells. Standing in Blaise’s private dressing room, in his office cleverly hidden through a secret passage at House of M, Hermione felt a bit self-conscious having to disrobe in front of him. Blaise, ever the gentleman, sensed her discomfort and immediately called in a female assistant, a younger Hufflepuff Hermione vaguely remembered, and a house-elf that was dressed better than Hermione. In hindsight, she was sure he had called them not just for her comfort but to force her to spring into action and come alive than actually do anything. Hermione felt her nerves disappear as she came charging out to yell at him about house-elf rights in nothing but her new knickers set.

Blaise was unphased by her outburst, replied, "Excellent," and stood her on a pedestal in the center of the room while a tape measure took her measurements. Hermione never stopped digging into him about house-elves until the little elf, scared half to death by the fire she was spewing, commented that "Meena is a free elf, Miss. Master Blaise pays me a galleon a week and gives Meena all the clothes I want."

"Meena is bonded to the House of M, Hermione, as the elves at Hogwarts. It keeps her magic stable," added Blaise, an amused grin on his face.

"Meena is a very good seamstress, Miss. Master Blaise is teaching us elves to read and write so we'd can copy his patterns and makes our own," added the house-elf with an excited flap of her ears. 

Blaise wisely kept his mouth shut as all the wind was knocked from her sails. His assistant, Verity Hermione thought she said, had only let loose one snicker that she tried to mask with a cough before Hermione cast a glare in her direction.

In that time, she was surprised to discover that Blaise had compiled a file on her: Her season, whatever that meant, and aura (clear pink). Her favorite colors (neutrals to wear and purples for everything else) and style of clothes (comfortable and classic, pencil skirts and business suits). What piece of clothing had made her feel the most beautiful (her gown from the yule ball), and what made her feel her frumpiest (her Wizarding robes). Blaise updated all her measurements, and while she lamented at how much weight she'd put on since graduating, he had tsked her until she was silent. 

Blaise stared her in the eyes, his very being resonating authority and compassion as he spoke, "Size is a meaningless number, Cara Mia. It says nothing about the person you are. You are the smartest witch of our generation. You are witty and funny. You are passionate and just. What size you are reflects none of that.

"Yes, you no longer have the body of a pre-teen or a half-starved runaway." He glared pointedly at her, alluding to a conversation they once had during their 8th year when their tentative friendship was formed. "You need to embrace this body, this size, these curves. They are apart of who you are now, but they don't define you."

"I'm not one of those beautiful girls, Blaise," she replied softly, shame tinting her words at her confession.

Stepping on to the platform with her, he took her hands, " _ Every woman is beautiful,"  _ he told her gently,  _ "when she feels confident in her skin _ ."

Hermione bit her bottom lip, "How am I supposed to do that exactly? Become confident in my skin?"

Blaise shrugged, "All I can do is help you find a good foundation that leads to confidence.  _ No one can make you feel confident, Princess. That's up to you and you alone.”  _ with that, he booped her nose and laughed heartily as she wrinkled her nose at him, before returning their attention to the task at hand.

Sitting on the floor of her flat, surrounded by her bags with Crookshanks in her lap, she found herself wondering when exactly it was that Blaise fucking Zabini had gotten so damn smart. It unsettled her deeply, and just when she thought that was the craziest thought she had today, she recalled she had a date with Draco fucking Malfoy in just a couple hours and found herself inexcusably confused all over again.

She hadn’t gotten much further than a shower and some lotion with her robe on when Blaise walked through her floo at 5 pm. An older house elf with bright blue hair and round glasses on her face at his heels. “Oh, dear,” the house-elf, aptly named Coco, proclaimed as she removed the Towel from Hermione’s head. “We may have needed more time.”

Blaise had almost fallen out in a fit of laughter as Hermione's eyes widened. If Coco hadn’t taken that moment to cast a silencing spell on Hermione, Blaise was sure he'd be dead from her shrieking. Coco, however, was completely unphased and set out a slew of magical beauty products – and at the snap of her fingers, Hermione was set upon by magical potions, skincare products, and nail kits. 

All at once, her hair was being smoothed as it was dried and then wrapped in large barrel rollers. A setting spray and a bonnet quickly following behind it. 

A skincare mask dried upon her face, and Coco peeled it off in one fell swoop before tweezers set upon Hermione’s eyebrows while moisturizer and serums found their way to her face creating an even, glowing skin tone.

If she could speak, Hermione would’ve given a little yelp as her feet were swept out from under her and a pedicure kit set to work on her feet as she suddenly found herself sitting in a chair. Sloughing off dead skin from her heels while pushing back her cuticles and trimming and filing her nails.

Coco ran a hand absently up Hermione’s leg and seemed content with the state of her skin, though a snap of her fingers saw some extra lotion and consideration given to Hermione’s elbows and knees. 

The small Elf gave Hermione a level look and asked if she was ready to continue without being silenced. Hermione couldn’t help the wide-eyed vigorous nod she gave in reply before she could think to say anything though Blaise was handing her a glass of champagne laced with Chambord and telling her cheers. She tipped the glass back, thankful for the thoughtfulness, and reminded herself that she really was in over her head and she’d rather have Coco helping her than Ginny.

Hermione wisely said nothing as the pedicure kit painted her toes a sparkling shade of red before moving to her hands. She held her fingers in front of her, watching in awe as the magicked products gave her a full manicure, ending with the same shade of red as her toes.

Hermione felt her head tilt up as Coco opened a makeup kit, and the products began to attack her face. Coco and Blaise both watched with close concentration and hushed whispers, with one of them occasionally shaking their heads and waving a hand in the direction of the makeup box and things changing. Hermione was thankful when she looked in the mirror and saw that Blaise had canceled the foundation charm, instead allowing her deep butterscotch skin tone to shine through, now with a hint of dewiness and bronze glow, showing off the freckles across her nose and cheekbones. Hermione wasn’t so proud that she couldn’t admit that she would never have chosen the particular shade of blush, or that she had even thought to wear peach blush with a subtle bronzer. Yet, she didn’t feel overdone by any means when she looked in the mirror.

In truth, she felt like herself - just a bit more polished. 

Her eye makeup was a mix of golds and browns that highlighted her natural eye shape and contour. Neither her eyeliner nor mascara was overdone, and her lips were a matte red that perfectly accentuated her full pout.

“Why isn’t it always this easy to get ready?” she mused aloud as she gazed at her reflection.

“It will be from now on,” replied Coco, snapping her fingers at the magicked beauty products that all collected themselves and arranged themselves nicely in a box. “This is for you. Tell it what style you want when you open it, and it will do it for you.”

Hermione’s mouth gaped. She stammered out a thank you and gushed at the elf for her thoughtfulness. Coco looked at once embarrassed and proud and cleared her throat, directing their attention back to clothes.

While Hermione was being attacked – ah, beautified, Blaise and Coco were dwindling the clothing options for the evening. They had narrowed it down to two dresses and a tailored pants and blouse outfit.

“As much as I’m sure I’d be more comfortable in pants,” began Hermione, “I think one of the dresses may be more appropriate.”

Blaise nodded, waving away the pants with his hand. “Do you want to try the dresses on?” he asked, eyeing them and then her. “See which feels better on?”

Hermione could only nod in agreement thinking this was probably the best course of action. The first dress was a beautiful wrap dress with ¾ length sleeves that fell to her knees. It accentuated and hugged her curves beautifully, but she couldn’t help but feel that if she wore this, she’d be very easy to untie, like a present. Not that that was a bad thing, but why on earth her mind had suddenly gone there shook her. She wasn’t going to sleep with Malfoy, for Godric’s sake! And, she’d never slept with anyone on a first date. Ever.

Clearing her throat, she removed the dress after taking a few twirls in it.

Slipping on the next dress, Hermione felt something inside her shift. “That one,” stated Blaise and Coco together. Hermione felt a slow smile spread across her face as she agreed.

The dress was a sophisticated take on 40’s and 50’s glam, in midi-length, with ruched detail and sheer sleeves in a deep charcoal grey. The neckline was the perfect V that came between her breasts, and the empire waistline banded just below her bra line, highlighting her breasts in a way that was tasteful and flattering. Coco took a pair of red high heel wedges and charmed them to a shiny black before having Hermione slip them on her feet. 

Blaise gave a soft smile and changed the shoes to leopard print. “Take a risk, Kitten,” he told her when she raised her eyebrows at him in question.

“Do you have a jewelry box?” asked Blaise. Hermione pointed to a very small box on the counter of her dresser that housed a couple of rings and a pair of dangly earrings from her grandmother.

“Perfect,” mused Blaise taking the earrings and handing them to her before handing her a few bangles for her arms. 

With a wave of his wand, the rollers in Hermione’s hair begun to undo themselves and return to their box alongside the other beauty products. “May I?” asked Blaise, indicating her hair. Unsure of what he wished to do, she gave another dip of her head.

Blaise placed his hands on her scalp and gave her a hair a good shake from the root, separating her curls and giving her hair some lift. Pushing her hair on one side back over her shoulder, he tucked a curl behind one ear, allowing her earring to show.

"Perfect," he stated, giving her a reassuring smile."Drake won't know what hit him."

Hermione felt herself blush. " Thank you for your help, Blaise."

"Just do me a favor Cara Mia," he replied, picking up his jacket and placing it across his arm as Coco waved her hands to clean up the space.

"Anything."

"Keep your mind open tonight with Drake. Let him show you who he really is."

Biting her bottom lip, Hermione nodded.

"Good. Owl me tomorrow and let me know how it goes?"

Hermione nodded again. "I will."

"This is for you," he added, placing a leopard print clutch big enough to hold her wand and a few other things in her hands. With a smile and a wink, he and Coco disappeared into the green flames, leaving Hermione only a few minutes to worry before Draco arrived.

Taking a deep breath, Hermione waved her hand around her flat. Tidying it quickly as she moved to the kitchen to pour herself another glass of champagne with Chambord.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading. I've got 2 dates sketched out in dialogue but nothing else atm. We'll see what the rest of the year brings and if this story tickles my muses fancy once again. Happy EAD loves! xx

**Author's Note:**

> If you liked it, let me know, and if you didn't that's okay too! Enjoy EAD loves and stay safe out there! xx


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